


Let Sleeping Dogs Lie.

by Leni



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bechdel Test, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:22:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Chosen. Post YW. Comics, what comics? "Willow had been fifteen the last time something in her life went according to plan."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Sleeping Dogs Lie.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, the 'dogs' in the title... was originally in female form.
> 
>  _Written for[The Bechdel Test Comment Ficathon](http://penny-lane-42.livejournal.com/164912.html?thread=3202864#t3202864)._

Willow had been fifteen the last time something in her life went according to plan. Back then, had anyone asked her what her goals were, she'd have shown them her draft for a Harvard application and, more shyly, the one picture of her and Xander that Jesse had taken, the one where Xander was smiling down at her as if… well.

Then Buffy crashed into their lives, and Willow found herself with a whole new set of priorities. In the fourteen years since, she'd become a hacker, a witch, a lesbian, and there'd been that day she'd almost destroyed the world….

Being dead, though, was something she'd hoped to postpone until her late seventies, at least. Optimistic, perhaps. Especially with the life she'd chosen. But optimism had gotten her through some rough patches, and why discard a good coping method?

Shame that it hadn't worked.

It hadn't been so bad, as deaths went. No drowning, no fall, almost no pain. She hoped that someone put a hex on the driver that'd hit her, though.

"Your roots are going black," said the woman next to her. "Just thought you'd like to know."

One more wrench in the plan of her life - rather, of her death.

Whichever.

Willow was pretty sure she'd done the right charms and chants for her soul to be collected by a kindred spirit. She'd been shooting for Tara, but her grandmother would have been fine, or even one of the fallen Slayers. Having Cordelia welcome her to the other side was… kind of scary.

"Stop sulking," her old classmate snapped, eyebrow arched and all. "I'm the one who died young here, you know. If anyone should complain, it's me."

Willow was sure that Cordelia _had_ complained - a lot. In fact, she pitied the thoughtless power that had snuffed Cordelia's life before she was done with it. Even in grade school, Cordelia Chase had not been the kind of girl to go down without a fight; hadn't she been the one to convince Miss White back in fifth grade to take their class to the beach instead of the zoo? But there were priorities, and she wasn't the mousy girl of their earlier years. "Hey," she protested, "I'm young, too."

"But I'm younger." There came that catty smile that Willow had hated at ten and sort of envied at seventeen. "And prettier." Cordelia gave a pointed glance from her shoes to her hair. "And _way_ cleaner. Geez, Willow. Couldn't you brush up before getting here?"

Willow grit her teeth together. Eleven years apart - since she couldn't really count that meeting in L.A. where Cordelia's body had been possessed and, when she'd thought about it, she'd been in serious danger of death by ex cheerleader. Eleven _years_. And Cordelia still got to her nerves with one sentence.

Some things, Willow lamented, you never outgrow. "Sorry if my getting run over upsets you." Cordelia's eyebrow wavered just enough, and Willow _had_ grown up some since high school. "Oh, Cordy." The old nickname came to her tongue unbidden, but the other girl didn't seem to mind. "You're upset?"

Cordelia gave her a Look.

Willow was sure the Look had been mastered after months of being flattered, flirted and asked out by Jesse (and other boys, but mostly Jesse), and them never getting a hint until Cordelia's dark eyes narrowed just enough and all their hopes were flattened into inexistence.

Nice to know that the Look had been expanded to other situations.

Willow's short-lived annoyance still lay flattened between them, though. "Um. Sorry."

"You mean, sorry for thinking I'm some callous bitch, or sorry for sneaking out with my boyfriend in senior year?"

Willow gaped. "Oh. Come on!" she said at last, crossing her arms across her chest. "I tried to apologize back then, dozens of times. And anyway, history much? We were _kids_."

Cordelia's eyes were dancing with humor. Probably had been all along. Far from the Queen C of old to miss a chance to squeeze the most out of an apology. "You finally got yourself a temper, Willow Rosenberg." The smile was kind, though. "Now it might be fun to rattle you."

Willow smiled back. "And you're still a callous bitch, Chase. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

With a practiced move, Cordelia swept her hair back. "Thanks."

It was such a classic pose, one she must have seen a thousand times as they crossed each other in the school corridors or met in the library, that it threw Willow to those times, to those two teenage girls hating and supporting and disliking each other again. It'd been a decade for her - not even half that much for this other girl. A _girl_. Cordelia had a point. She _was_ younger. Funny how one forgot such things as normal life expectancy when apocalypses were more regular than earthquakes. "Hey, Cordelia?" She waited until she had her old friend's attention. "I'm glad you came to heaven's gates for me."

She'd never seen Cordelia smile that sincerely - not at her. It seemed that, short as it had been, the time between graduation and death had mellowed the brunette some. "What's the good of being stuck with the Powers That Be if you can't help old fr--- Oh." She tilted her head slightly to the right, as if she were listening to something. Willow strained her hearing, but there was nothing around them. Then Cordelia scrunched her nose, lifted her shoulders, and gave a low chuckle. "Well. This is kind of awkward." She reached over and gave Willow's arm a little pat. "Change of plans."

Willow panicked. "We're not going to heaven?"

"Not today." Cordelia laughed. Both her hands came to settle at Willow's shoulders and squeezed lightly. "Seems your paramedic knew a bit of healing magic. Enough to restart your heart."

"Oh. _Oh!_ I'm alive?"

"In another second."

Willow couldn't say what surprised her more. The sudden weightlessness, the inescapable pull back into her body. Or the soft kiss on her forehead. "Goodbye," she mumbled.

*

And hello, pain.

"Will?" It was Xander. "You're awake! We've been worried sick. You've been asleep for two days, Willow. Two _days_." He grasped her wrist, then seemed to remember himself. "Shoot! A nurse. I'm calling a nurse, okay, Will? Or - better. A doctor. Doctors are good."

"Xander, wait." Willow motioned at him to come closer, then closer still, until she could lift herself enough to kiss his forehead. At his confused look, she smiled. "I think she'd want me to share."

Xander gave her a long look. "I'll tell them to check for concussions," he muttered to himself as he straightened.

Willow laughed.

 

The End  
08/10/10


End file.
